Linked Steele

Part Nine

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Night was steadily descending over the city of Los Angeles as Mildred drove her car through the streets of a nearly deserted warehouse district. Beside her, Laura Holt scanned the buildings with a deepening frown. "I can't believe we lost him," she fretted.

"Well, we KNOW that the cab dropped him off a this corner," Mildred reminded her. "He MUST be in one of these buildings." Laura looked around as Mildred stopped the car to wait for a red light, then opened her door. Mildred looked around, alarmed. "Miss Holt?"

"I think I saw a flash of light in that building over there, Mildred. I'm going to search that one first, then work my way out," she informed the woman.

"But- Miss Holt, there are at least ten vacant warehouses in this area," Mildred pointed out. "There's no way you can search them all by yourself-"

Laura bent down to the open window. "I'll be fine. I want you to find a payphone and call Jarvis. Tell him where I am, and that if I'm not back here in one hour, he needs to send in the calvary."

Mildred watched Laura vanish toward the abandoned warehouse with worried eyes, then jumped as a car came up behind her and the driver, angry that she was sitting at a green light, blew his horn. "Move it, lady!" he man shouted.

"I'm going, I'm going!" Mildred called back. "Just hold your horses!"

**********

LAPD Sgt. Larry Middleton entered the warehouse with cautious movements, staying alert to every sound the building made. He'd seen Steele enter through the back - he KNEW the man was here. The question was: why? Why would a famed private investigator be in an abandoned, decaying warehouse, alone? He pulled his gun, holding it toward the high ceiling, noting the catwalk above him as he surveyed his surroundings. There was a sound to his right, and Larry froze, waiting for it to come again, then turned quickly in that direction, arms out, gun ready - He saw the flash of gunpowder exploding before he heard the shot- and then he was on the floor, his own gun being kicked away from his hand. It was an effort to look up, into the triumphant face of the man who stood over him. "Steele," he muttered, then closed his eyes.

**********

Laura was about to enter the warehouse that she'd pointed out to Mildred when she heard the shot. It had come from down the street, she decided, and moved toward the building. She couldn't see through the grimy windows, and the idea of entering through the front door seemed a trifle foolhardy. So she went toward the back of the building, searching for another point of entry, one that wouldn't necessarily be watched.

The fire escape ladder was only two feet above her head, and she stepped back to see that it would take her to a row of windows on the third floor. Laura looked around the alleyway, finally spotting an aluminum trash can. It was thankfully empty, and Laura picked it up and carried it beneath the ladder, turning it over quietly and getting on it to reach the ladder.

The window wasn't locked, and Laura easily pushed it up and open to allow her entry into the building. She stayed close to the wall as she realized that she was on a catwalk high above the bottom level, with a view of most of the front, open half of the building. Moving stealthily around the walk, Laura soon realized that the platform was unstable. Rust had attacked many of the iron joints, and she began to search for a way down. A lot of good she would do Remington if she broke her neck in a fall.

As she reached the floor, her foot fell on something hard that almost made her fall. Reaching down, she touched cold steele. *A gun*, she realized, wondering what it was doing there. A noise came from the back of the warehouse, and Laura's internal debate over picking the weapon up or confronting the bogus Steele empty handed was quickly settled as she opted for the first idea. Her fingers closed over the small revolver, and she moved toward the spot where she'd heard the noise, nearly tripping over something lying on the floor as she did.

Kneeling carefully, Laura's hand moved over the form and when she realized it was a body, her heart beat seemed loud in the silence that surrounded her. There was no pulse, and when she encountered wetness on the chest of the dead man, she realized that he'd been shot- in all probability with the gun she was now holding in her other hand. As she held her breath, she flicked on the small pen light that she'd brought- and released her breath with the discovery that the man lying on the floor, his life blood spreading out in a dark stain on his shirt, WASN'T Remington.

Another sound- again from the back of the building, caused Laura to turn off the light and rise slowly to her feet. Even if the bogus Steele wasn't here, SOMEONE had killed the man. There was a dim light in one of the offices to her right, visible only because of her angle to the rooms. She had missed it before because of crates blocking her view. Slowly, gun pointed upwards, ready, Laura skirted the crates, approaching the room gingerly.

At last she leaned against the wall outside, then, counting slowly to five, she turned and pointed her gun into the room, ready for whatever she found there. Or, at least, she THOUGHT she was ready.

Her brown eyes met startled blue in the dim glow of a low wattage lamp in a corner. "Mr. Steele?" she said, then lowered the gun to cross the small room. She knelt at his side, putting the gun on the floor to remove the white cloth that served as a gag before moving closer, intending to give him a kiss. "I was afraid that he might have-"

He pulled away. "I think he still has that in his plans," he pointed out. "Are you alone?"

"I sent Mildred to call Jarvis, but they'll be going to another warehouse down the street. We have to get out of here. Let me untie your hands -" He moved forward slightly.

"He told me you were in jail-"

"I was. Mildred got me out. Who IS he?" she asked, easily dispensing with the rope that bound his wrists, then moved to the ropes at his ankles.

"Someone I knew as a lad in an orphanage in Dublin," he said. "Apparently he believes that I somehow outshone him because I was the one who got taken by so-called relatives -"

"All of this - two people dead because he was JEALOUS of you?" she asked. "He MUST be crazy," Laura said, starting to pick up the gun. "Can you walk? We have to get out of here before he comes back."

"I think so," he said, then took the gun from her. "I'll carry it," he said. As they moved toward the door, he said, "I think we'd best use the front doors, don't you?"

Laura nodded, moving ahead of him toward the front of the building. "We'll have Jarvis search the building," she told him.

He paused, a hand to his head. "Sorry, Laura. Have to rest - he's been using some kind of drug to keep me quiet - "

"A drug?" she questioned. "How did he make the switch at Reed's house?"

"He was waiting for me when I went into the kitchen," he said, sitting on a crate. "The next thing I knew, I woke up bound and gagged in the basement, watching him put my wallet into his jacket. That's when he gave me the first injection - and the next time I woke up I was here." He looked past her. "There's a door through that room, I think. I can see a light in there, might be coming from outside."

It was closer than the front of building, and Laura wanted to get him out of there as soon as she could. There was no telling what kind of drug he'd been subjected to. "Okay. Let's go."

The light WASN'T coming from outside, Laura realized. It wasn't even really a room at all, but a freight elevator. She entered the lift, then froze as she spotted Remington laying on a dirty piece of canvas atop several crates. "What-?" Turning, she saw the man she had "saved" was holding the gun on her.

"I thought you'd never get here, Laura," he said.

"You expected me to come here?" she said.

"I knew you couldn't resist trying to find your Steele," he said, watching her move to stand beside the REAL Remington Steele and feel for a pulse. She touched his hand, and felt his fingers move slightly as a signal. "Oh, he's quite alive. It wasn't time for him to die. Not yet, anyway."

"What did you give him?" Laura demanded of the man holding the gun.

"Nothing lethal, I assure you. Didn't want to risk anything showing up in an autopsy."

"How do you think you can POSSIBLY get away with this?!" Laura asked, keeping her hand on Remington's.

"It's quite an ingenious plan, actually," he said. "Once you were released from jail, you came down here to confront your partner- the 'fake' Remington Steele. You and he planned to frame me for Rachel's murder, taking me out of the way so that you could put him in my place as a figure head and run the agency yourself. But your partner decided to double-cross you- decided he wanted to take my place, so he called me down here, not expecting you to turn up. You shot him- after shooting the police officer that was following me. And to cover your tracks, you decided to set fire to the building-- only you got caught in your own trap."

"And you, of course, escape."

"Well, of course. How else can I continue as Remington Steele?" he asked.

"Mildred won't believe any of this," Laura warned him.

"I'll take care of Mildred, don't worry yourself about her." Cold chills went down Laura's spine. He stepped back, pulling the gate across the opening, then locking it with a padlock that was already in place. "I have some final preparations to take care of," he told her. "I'm sure you'll excuse me- And I wouldn't try to escape, Laura. There's no way out."

Laura watched him disappear into the dark warehouse, then turned as she heard Remington groan softly. "Laura?" he asked.

She returned to his side, bending over him, touching his face. "I'm here, Mr. Steele," she said, saying a silent prayer as his eyes opened at last. "I'm here." She gave him a kiss, and this Mr. Steele didn't push her away. "Are you all right?" she asked at last.

"A little groggy," he complained. "He said you'd been arrested -"

"For Rachel's murder. He put the murder weapon and other evidence in my car," she explained. "We have to get out here, Mr. Steele."

"Not sure we can," he said. "Can't - think."

"He said something about having known you when you were children-?"

Remington nodded. "At the orphanage. Dublin. Wasn't there long- I was- between families. Vaguely recall another boy - quiet, withdrawn. Jamie." He winced as though the effort to think caused him pain. "Didn't like me very much."

"Because you were the one who got a family- even a foster one- and he got left behind."

"Yes," Remington agreed softly. "Locked me in a closet when it was time to go and offered to take my place when they couldn't find me. I hadn't thought of him in years. I try NOT to think about those days," he admitted. "Shunted from place to place, different names," he murmured. "Never really felt I belonged anywhere until I became Remington Steele." Laura smiled at his words. This was something she wouldn't mind pursuing. But they had work to do.

"How did he find you again?"

"He was already in Las Vegas when he -saw my picture in a Los Angeles paper. I've no idea how he knew for sure it was me- but he started following me around, learning everything he could - " His voice was sounding stronger, Laura noted with relief. Perhaps the drug had a limited effect. "He didn't always look that much like me. Oh, there was a strong resemblance, but, over time, he's had plastic surgery done to make himself into my double."

"Except for the eyes," she pointed out.

"Yes. He said that was the one thing he couldn't change." Slowly Remington sat up on the crates, leaning on his arms. "Ohh," he said, shaking his head.

"Dizzy?" Laura asked.

"A bit. Don't know what he's been giving me," Remington said, looking at his arm, shuddering at the fresh needle marks, "but whatever it is, it's got a hell of a kick."

"Do you think you can get out of here if I create a diversion?" she asked.

"I won't go without you," he said. "Not sure I can make it-"

"You have to try," Laura said. "Mildred and Jarvis are probably in the area, looking for us. I told her an hour- it's been almost that long."

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

**********

"Jamie!" Laura called out. "Where are you?"

"Patience, Laura," Jamie replied. "And the name is Remington Steele," he reminded her.

"You'll NEVER be Remington Steele," she assured him. "Oh, you might be able to steal his name, his life - but you will never be the detective he is, never be able to fool people for very long."

"Perhaps," he agreed, glancing behind her to the crates, where the canvas was pulled over Remington. "But you won't be around to see that day, I'm afraid. The time has come to put an end to this little drama." He pointed the gun in his hand toward the canvas and fired a single shot- and Laura made made a mad dash past him into the warehouse. "Come back here!" he called, turning his back on the elevator to pursue her.

Once he was out of sight, Remington came from behind the crates and looked at the bullet hole in the wadded up canvas, then moved slowly and cautiously in the direction that Laura and Jamie had disappeared. He knew she wanted him to get out of the warehouse, but there was no way in bloody hell that he was going to leave her alone with a cold blooded killer.

**********

Outside, Jarvis' car pulled up, accompanied by several other police cars. "Any sign of her, Mildred?" he asked the woman who was staring at a warehouse down the street.

"No, but I heard gunshots from down there, I think."

"Lieutenant!" one of the men called. "We found Sgt. Middleton's car in the alley."

There was another shot, and Jarvis spoke into his radio. "All units, move in. Search every warehouse in this area. Perry, Arnold, Granger, with me."

**********

Laura tripped over the dead policeman's body, barely recovering to scramble back up the steps to the catwalk. If she could get back to the fire escape, she'd be home free. Jamie came up the steps right behind her, too concerned with his pursuit to hear the ominous groaning of rusted metal under more weight than it could support.

Remington heard the noise and knew that unless Laura could reach the catwalk against the wall, she'd fall when the catwalk gave way. He propped himself against a crate as he looked around for a possible means of rescuing her. His eyes fell on a cable attached to a winch mechanism against the wall - attached to a pulley on the ceiling. There was a hook on the end of the cable. His head was pounding, and Remington shook it to clear it as he examined the wheel that wound the cable. There had to be a manual release somewhere, he told himself. Some way to lower and raise that hook without electricity. He glanced up at the catwalk, where Laura was struggling with Jamie over the gun.

Metal creaked again, and the catwalk dropped an inch, causing Jamie to grab Laura and pull her against him. "You're too heavy," she told him. "The metal's rusted-"

"Let her go, Jamie," Remington called from below. His answer was a bullet that flew past him, striking the winch mechanism and freeing the handle on the side. Remington grabbed it, hoping that Jamie hadn't seen the hook move downward. He didn't, because the catwalk slid another inch as the metal pinnings began to separate.

Jamie released Laura to grab at the rail for support, and Laura backed away, toward the spot where the cable would come down. Another shudder, and the catwalk titled to a forty five degree angle. "Jump, Laura!" Remington called out, allowing the hook to lower within reach. He held his breath until he saw her grab the hook and dangle above the floor as he started to lower her.

"NO!!!" Jamie yelled, pointing his gun toward Laura, who was now in plain sight and a clear target. "If I can't get to you, I'll take her!" he said, his finger tightening- only to drop the gun as the catwalk collapsed comepletely, sending him hurtling to the floor below.

The room was suddenly filled with police, all with guns at ready and flashlights in hand, and Remington found himself the center of their attention. "I'd raise my hands," he told them, "but that would leave Miss Holt in a bit of a predicament."

Jarvis and Mildred appeared through the crates, and Mildred looked at him for a long minute before turning to Laura, who was still hanging ten feet from the floor. "Oh, Miss Holt? Is he-?"

"He's the REAL Mr. Steele, Mildred," Laura assured her, trying to maintain her grip on the metal hook. "Now can he PLEASE get me down?"

The guns fell, and Jarvis went to the man laying on the floor, half buried beneath the remains of the catwalk as a policeman took Remington's place to lower the hook gently until Remington was able to grasp Laura and finish lowering her feet to the floor. Their eyes met in silent understanding, and then they turned to join Jarvis and Mildred. "Is he-?" Laura asked.

Jarvis shook his head. "He's dead," he told her. "Probably broke his neck when he fell. Perkins, call the coroner."

"Yes, sir, Lieutenant."

"I believe you'll find one of your men over there," Laura said, pointing to the bottom of the stairs that now led nowhere.

Jarvis left them, to go and examine Middleton. Laura, looking down at the face of the dead man, shivered, and felt Remington put an arm around her. "I know," he said softly. "Gives me a chill as well, seeing myself dead."

"He wasn't you," she reminded him.

"But he could have been," Remington answered. "There but for the grace of God -"

Laura studied his face, then called, "Jarvis -?"

"Yes, Laura?" Now she was Laura again. When he'd believed her guilty of murder, she'd been "Miss Holt."

"I'm taking Mr. Steele to the hospital. His kidnapper had been using some kind of drug on him to keep him quiet -"

"Okay. I'll expect a report from both of you as soon as possible," he told them.

Remington paused. "He's got my wallet, Detective," he said. "Do you mind?" Jarvis nodded to one of the police officers nearby, and the man knelt to retrieve the wallet from the man's pocket, handing it to Remington. Remington nodded in appreciation, and put it into his own pocket before leaving the warehouse between Laura and Mildred.

**********

Laura was sitting in Remington's hospital room later that day when the young nurse wheeled him back in. "Here we are, Mr. Steele."

"Hmm. Thank you, Marie."

"Do you need help getting into bed?" she asked, obviously eager to please. "The doctor said you might experience some residual lightheadness from the drug," she reminded him.

Remington grinned. "Well -"

"I'll be here to make sure he doesn't fall, nurse," Laura said pointedly, causing Remington's grin to widen even more as the nurse turned toward the door, only to pause once.

"If you need me,- you know where the buzzer is."

"Uh, yes," Remington confirmed, picking up the wire with the page button attached.

Laura helped him back into bed, tucking the covers in. "How long will you have to stay in here?" she asked.

"Only for the night. The doctor wants to make sure the drug is out of my system before he lets me go." He noticed the circle of gold in her hand. "What's that?"

"Something I found when I was hanging up your jacket," she told him. "It was in the same pocket that your wallet was in. It probably got caught in the wallet when the policeman took it out of Jamie's pocket to return it." She held it out to him. "I think you should see it."

Remington examined the gold circle. "It's a locket of some kind." When she nodded without speaking, he opened it to find himself looking at a faded little circular photo of a dark haired man and woman. There was an inscription on the opposite side. "M.K. and K.L." Remington looked up at her. "K.L.?" He looked more closely at the man's features. "Kevin Landers?" he asked. "But- if that is the Earl- then-she's-"

Laura took the locket and looked at the photo again. "Probably the mother of his missing son. Maggie Kiernan."

"Kiernan?" Remington questioned. "But- his son's name was Sean - " He closed his eyes, putting his head back. It was a good thing he was laying down. "James. Jamie."

"Obviously, his name was Sean James Kiernan," Laura said. Remington reached out for the locket again. "Are you going to tell the Earl?"

"Tell him what, Laura?" he asked, his voice quiet and filled with pain. "'Oh, by the way, we found your son, your lordship, but it turns out he was a cold blooded killer and we had to kill him to save ourselves?'" He closed the locket and wrapped his fingers around it. "No. I can't do that to him, Laura. It wouldn't serve any purpose except to bring him more pain."

"I guess you're right," Laura agreed, touching his hand, trying to smooth away the tension she felt there. "You know, I haven't thanked you for saving my life this evening."

"All in the line of duty," he assured her in a solemn voice, but his blue eyes held a teasing light- only slightly dimmed by their recent discovery. "I DO know how you could make it up to me, though."

"Oh? And what do you have in mind?" she asked, playing his little game.

"Well, I'm going to need a place to stay until my apartment is redone- the bedroom, anyway. And I thought, perhaps - you might be willing to let me stay at your loft for the duration?"

Laura leaned forward to press a light kiss to his lips. "I'd love to, Mr. Steele," she assured him- and saw the hopeful expression on his face before she added, "But Mildred's already taking care of all that. The apartment should be ready for you to return by tomorrow afternoon."

"I see," he said ruefully. His hand slid to the back of her neck, keeping her close. "Laura, promise me something."

"Yes, Mr. Steele?"

"Next time you're invited to a family gathering, make sure I go along. Right now, I'd rather face a roomful of your relatives than what I've gone through these last few days."

"I promise, Mr. Steele," Laura said, smiling as their lips met once more.

The End

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Original content © 1999 by Nancy Eddy